


(I Wanna) Get Freaky on Camera

by tobiyos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, its literally all fun, sex in front of a camera, slight exhibitionism, that's like... the draw in, the phantom thieves are all good sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: “I said, uh, have you ever thought about making a sex tape? Like… of us.”Yusuke tips his head to the side. “As in… recording us being intimate?”“Duh,” Ryuji huffs, squirming uncomfortably in Yusuke’s lap. “’s not like… a big deal. I was just wonderin’.”--Ryuji and Yusuke try to make a sex tape. Keyword "try."
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Sakamoto Ryuji, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	(I Wanna) Get Freaky on Camera

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, like the [Doja Cat](https://open.spotify.com/album/1MmVkhiwTH0BkNOU3nw5d3?highlight=spotify:track:1ghvzmzpx2nnrbx7wtpMgo) song
> 
> I was listening to miss Doja and having thoughts about Ryuji (as one is wont to do) and I was like "wouldn't it be funny if Ryuji tried to convince Yusuke it'd be cool to make a sex tape" and then I went "wouldn't it be FUNNIER if Yusuke was way too enthusiastic about it?" and now. We have this ;)

Ryuji doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he brings up the prospect of making a sex tape with his boyfriend. He and Yusuke say a lot of shit when they’re having sex (or when they’re on the way, at least) so he wasn’t thinking _much_ of it in a way that is painfully common for him. But he vaguely remembers chatting with Ann about one of her coworkers being blacklisted for _intimate_ videos of her with some people in the industry going around, and he had thought, _Well. At least I’m not a model._

When he manages to remember to ask, Yusuke blinks up at him, breath catching for a moment on Ryuji’s collarbone.

“What?” Ryuji says, chin dropping back down so he can look at Yusuke’s face.

“Can you… repeat that?” Yusuke asks, hands sliding down from where they were under the sides of Ryuji’s shirt to rest on his hips.

And, you know, maybe Ryuji could have brought this up at a time when Yusuke isn’t _already_ trying to get into his pants, but, hey, you miss every shot you don’t take or whatever. There are certainly worst moments than cuddled up with his boyfriend on their couch, late afternoon light cutting through the gigantic windows Yusuke had been unfairly excited about when they first moved in. It makes the whole room feel hazy and warm, and Ryuji hadn’t really thought twice when Yusuke had started pressing soft kisses to his skin, hands wandering over the flat planes of his body. “I said, uh, have you ever thought about making a sex tape? Like… of us.”

Yusuke tips his head to the side. “As in… recording us being intimate?”

“Duh,” Ryuji huffs, squirming uncomfortably in Yusuke’s lap. “’s not like… a big deal. I was just wonderin’.”

“I haven’t… explicitly considered it,” Yusuke says slowly. Ryuji shivers as his hands start moving again, sliding towards Ryuji’s back and up under his shirt. “I don’t think I’m… adverse to the idea, however.”

“Really?” Ryuji says, on a shiver. “You don’t, _ah_ —you don’t have to go along with it, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Yusuke hums, lips pressing to the underside of Ryuji’s jaw sweetly. The gentle way he drags his teeth over his skin makes Ryuji’s head spin pleasantly. “Why would it make me uncomfortable? I enjoy the way you look when we’re together. I wouldn’t turn down a more permanent record of that.”

“O-oh,” Ryuji gasps. Yusuke is peppering more kisses on his jaw, and down his neck towards his shoulder, hands still mapping out the muscles in his back. He’s so careful with his touch—his long, _precise_ fingers—and _now_ Ryuji kind of regrets bringing this up when Yusuke had already had hands on him, because the idea of getting up is more than just a little unappealing.

“Yeah… not… now though,” he says, half breathlessly, fingers winding in the long hair at the back of Yusuke’s neck. “I don’t want to wait,” he breathes, feeling Yusuke’s hands sliding along the bumps of his spine, up towards the jut of his shoulder blades.

Yusuke hums against his throat. “Another time, then.”

\--

After that, Ryuji kind of forgets about it. It was an exciting enough idea, sure, but Ryuji’s grasp on previous thought is tenuous when Yusuke’s hands and mouth and dick are involved, so the prospect gets buried under a hundred other equally meaningless conversations.

He wakes up on a Saturday morning to Yusuke’s face pressed into his bare stomach, fingers walking idly up his chest as Yusuke lazes comfortably, their blankets sliding half off of his sleep warmed body.

“Morning,” Ryuji says groggily, reaching down to push a bit of Yusuke’s hair out of his face.

“Good morning,” Yusuke whispers, fingers still moving across Ryuji’s skin. “Do you have work today?”

“Nah,” Ryuji rasps, croaking out a yawn. “Schedule got flipped with Mishima’s for the week. You wanna do something?”

“Maybe,” Yusuke says, eyes flicking up to Ryuji’s face. He feels his stomach roll at the wide, dark expanse of his grey eyes, morning light catching his long dark lashes. “How would you feel about undertaking the, ahem, _activity_ you mentioned the other week?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, babe,” Ryuji laughs, scratching gently at Yusuke’s scalp. “I think we had a couple of conversations last week.”

“Making a video of us having sex,” he says, and Ryuji feels his cheeks warm.

“Oh?” His hand stills in Yusuke’s hair, face twisting into a little smile. “You liked it that much?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Yusuke says, like the inverse is ridiculous. “I already told you—I think you’re especially attractive in the throes of pleasure.” He presses a kiss to Ryuji’s bare stomach that makes his leg twitch in the sheets, fingers scratching across Yusuke’s scalp again. “It’s practical.”

“Practical,” Ryuji snorts, even though the idea makes him feel equal parts unnecessarily affectionate and unreasonably horny. He sits up slowly, laughing as Yusuke looks disgruntled from being displaced from his spot on Ryuji’s stomach. He really is too cute, with his thin lips pressing into a pout. “Come on then, where’s your phone?”

“My cellphone?” Yusuke says, nose wrinkling. “Why would we need that?”

“Uh,” Ryuji laughs, leaning down to flick Yusuke in the nose. “We’ve got to record on something. Unless you’d rather use my phone, but you’ve got a newer model. The camera’s better.”

Yusuke makes a contemplative noise. “Isn’t that rather… amateurish?”

“What,” Ryuji chuckles. “Were you expecting professional level quality?”

Yusuke’s face twists as he sniffs indignantly. “I certainly was expecting better.”

“Come on,” Ryuji coos, leaning down to press a chaste, dry kiss to Yusuke’s little pout. He kisses him again, just to feel the way Yusuke’s mouth softens on a hum. “I promise, it won’t be that bad.”

There’s another sniff, and even with his eyes closed, awaiting the final kiss Ryuji presses to his cheek, Yusuke still looks indignant. “Fine,” he sighs, sliding out of bed. “It’s in the living room. Hold on,” he says, and slips past the doorway.

Ryuji sits up and stretches, still blinking a bit of lingering sleep out of his eyes as he leans over and checks his phone. He’s got a text message from Akira inviting him to spend the day with Ann— _can’t_ , he sends back, _having a day in with Yusuke_ —and a reminder to renew his gym subscription. He feels his jaw crack with a yawn.

“Ready?” Yusuke asks, leaning against the doorframe, with his phone clutched in one hand. Ryuji silently thanks the universe for his gorgeous, tall boyfriend, who barely fits in their doorway, shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants that sit much too low on his frame. Ryuji wants to bite at his hipbones.

“Very,” Ryuji purrs, rolling to his hands and knees so he can crawl to meet Yusuke at the edge of the bed. He smiles when Yusuke leans down and presses his mouth to Ryuji’s gently, a hand going to chin and tilts his face up gently, stretching Ryuji’s neck long on his shoulder, and Ryuji sighs into his mouth, aching to touch already when Yusuke is too far away.

He kisses Ryuji until he’s breathless and pulls away with a pleased glint in his eyes. Ryuji leans in for another kiss as his eyelashes flutter closed, and whines when Yusuke avoids his mouth in favor of leaning back slightly.

“Hmm,” Yusuke mumbles, and Ryuji feels the hand at his jaw slide down towards his chin, Yusuke’s thumb going to his bottom lip. “The lighting in the bedroom is rather poor, isn’t it?” he says contemplatively. Ryuji makes a questioning noise, letting Yusuke slide his thumb between his lips and into his mouth. Ryuji shivers as he pets over his tongue almost mindlessly. “It’ll be difficult to see you like this,” he says lowly, and Ryuji groans around his finger, back arching as he tries to push himself closer. He’s always had a thing for Ryuji’s voice, and now is certainly no exception. Yusuke is barely paying attention to him though, glancing around the room and pressed a hand to his mouth like he’s deep in thought. “Maybe I should go get the lamp out of the living room—”

“Yusuke,” Ryuji sighs, sliding his finger out of his mouth. “Is it that big a deal?”

“Of course,” Yusuke says, eyebrows furrowing. “If it was just about the sound, we could make an audio recording, but that’s not particularly the draw in, is it? I want to see your face,” he says, voice dropping.

And Ryuji would really, really like to be able to vocalize _why_ all the little particulars don’t matter, but the even glide of Yusuke’s voice is making his heart pound excitedly, and he finds himself just nodding along mindlessly, attempting to arch up for another kiss.

“A better camera would help as well,” Yusuke says evenly, and Ryuji’s shivers as the hands return to his face, petting soothingly. Ryuji definitely isn’t listening now, leaning into Yusuke’s hands with a content sigh.

“Ryuji,” Yusuke says quietly. “ _Ryuji_.”

“Hmm?” Ryuji hums, eyes sliding back open.

“I asked if you knew how much a ring light might cost.”

Ryuji blinks. “A… what?”

“A ring light,” Yusuke repeats. “They’ve been popular with content creators as of late, and I’m sure it wouldn’t do any harm. Though… our walls are particularly prone to absorbing light. Perhaps I should invest in some LEDs—”

“Yusuke,” Ryuji says. “Can’t you just… fuck me?”

“Well, I’ll certainly get to that,” Yusuke huffs, like it’s obvious, and Ryuji makes a frustrated noise when he steps back, glancing around their dark bedroom with a frown. “I don’t know if the scenery as a whole is really conducive to a particularly romantic atmosphere.” He glances down at Ryuji. “Do we still have that plain black comforter from when we moved in?”

“Can we just—” Ryuji starts, cut off when his phone starts ringing. He lets out an exasperated breath and crawls back towards the nightstand, swiping his phone off and answering the call as Yusuke continues to mumble to himself about _staging_. “Hello?”

 _“Sakamoto-san?”_ he hears Mishima squeak. “ _I know it’s your off day and everything, but—_ ”

Ryuji leans back against the pillows on the headboard with a sigh. “Dude, just tell me what it is.”

“ _Right!_ ” Mishima yelps. “ _T-there’s, um—well, the owner decided to do a blowout sale today because she accidently bought more stock of some of the free weights than she thought she did, a-and you know how people are about buying new exercise supplies after New Year’s—_ ”

“Mishima,” Ryuji growls into the phone, fingers coming up to pinch at his brow. “Can we get to a point sometime this year, man?”

“ _We kind of need some extra hands on deck,”_ Mishima rushes out. Ryuji barely keeps down a groan. He knows where this is going. _“There are way too many people in here for just me and the boss to handle.”_

Another sigh. “Today just seems to be getting better.” He glances at Yusuke and finds he’s not even looking at Ryuji anymore, instead fiddling with some of the trinkets they have stacked up on a dresser. He hears, _would accessories take away from or add to the focus of Ryuji’s form_ , as he sinks down into his bed with a huff. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I can come in. Give me thirty.”

“ _Thank you!_ ” Mishima says gratefully.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Ryuji grunts. “You’re seriously going to owe me,” he promises, and tunes out Mishima’s thankful groveling before he hangs up. “Work,” he tells Yusuke, sliding out of the bed and onto the floor. “They need my help for the day.”

“But… our plans,” Yusuke says on a pout. Ryuji takes in the disappointed shine of his eyes and feels slightly guilty, sidling up to his chest to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe later, yeah? I’ll bring dinner home. I probably won’t have to work the whole shift.”

“If you must,” Yusuke sighs, glancing over Ryuji’s shoulder at the far wall. “Do you think we could repaint?”

Ryuji sighs. He’s lucky Yusuke is pretty.

\--

Mishima wasn’t kidding when he said the store was packed. It’s swarmed with college students and twenty somethings desperately trying to get a handle on the sale, and Ryuji keeps getting stuck with the middle-aged women who come in and try to haggle their already _exorbitantly_ low prices, just because their manager knows Mishima is too much of a pushover to be able to handle it.

He can tell his assumption that he wouldn’t be on for a full shift is little more than a fantasy by the time he’s waddling out of the backroom with another box of weights under his arm to offer the next customer. They barely get any time for lunch, and Ryuji cashes in one of the many favors Mishima owes him to convince him to watch his register for ten minutes so he can lay face down on the couch in the break room and groan.

By the time his shift is over, he’s exhausted, and thoroughly soured from the good mood he was in earlier in the day. He’s only spurred on for the journey back by the thoughts of his nice, warm apartment and his sweet boyfriend when he really just wants to keel over into a bush and pretend he’s shrubbery for a minute or so.

He picks up Thai on the way, just because it’s the one food they can always agree on, and he daydreams about cuddling up in from of the TV for the rest of the evening as he climbs the stairs to his apartment. Or maybe Yusuke will let Ryuji suck his dick. Wouldn’t that be nice.

He opens his door with a sigh. It’ll be a slow night, he thinks. Just him, Yusuke, and—

“Hi, Ryuji!” Ann calls.

“Hi, Ryuji,” Akira echoes.

“Welcome back!” Morgana yowls.

Ryuji stops in his doorway. What was he honestly expecting?

“Welcome home, darling,” Yusuke grunts, stretched up towards the ceiling on the ladder Akira is holding. “Did you manage to get dinner?”

Ryuji takes in his once peaceful apartment, now lit up and smelling like… is that some kind of incense? All of their furniture is pushed against the wall near the kitchenette, the space cleared out save for the tripod set up in the middle of the floor, displayed on a bright piece of fabric that leads up to where Yusuke seems to be pinning it to their wall. It’s a really light pink, almost white, and their loveseat is placed in the middle of the floor, covered in a white blanket that’s stretched over the entirety of the normally brown fabric. It looks like some kind of low budget photoshoot, decorated with glitter that makes Ryuji feel gritty just looking at it.

“What the hell is this?” Ryuji asks, closing the door behind him.

“A set,” Yusuke says, like that explains everything.

“Yes, I _got_ that,” Ryuji huffs, moving to set the food he’d picked up on the table pushed against the wall. “What is it _for?_ ”

“Is that Thai?” Ann asks excitedly, leaning down off the arm of the couch to reach for the plastic bag. Ryuji smacks at her hand.

“For exhibiting our lovemaking,” Yusuke says, and Ryuji feels a frown tug at his mouth as Akira snickers into his hand. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten in the few hours since this morning?”

“I didn’t… forget,” Ryuji sighs, watching Yusuke climb off of the ladder and follow Akira as he moves to the other side of the room, reaching up with a strip of what could be white tape to go across the ceiling. “I just… is this _necessary_ , Yusuke?”

“Film is an art form, is it not?” Yusuke says, stretching long as he pins the tape to the ceiling with a sigh. He turns and sits on the highest rung of the ladder, crossing his legs primly. “For the sake of relaying the passion in our intimacy, we must create a captivating scene as well.”

Akira snickers again and Ryuji feels his eye twitch, glancing around for something to throw at him. “Hush,” he barks. “Why are Ann and Akira here?”

“And Mona!” Morgana shouts helpfully.

“Ann has a background in modeling,” Yusuke explains, like it’s _obvious_. “She had important insights into capturing static scenes with care for angles and lighting.”

“And Akira?” Ryuji sighs.

“I did some work with a journalist back when we were still the Phantom Theives,” Akira says with a shrug. “She taught me some composition tricks.” He waggles his eyebrows. “I’m your director.”

“Director sounds too formal!” someone announces from the kitchen, and Ryuji nearly returns to his plans of becoming shrubbery when Futaba emerges from the kitchen with one of Ryuji’s energy drinks clutched under one arm, her computer in the other. “Wouldn’t it be more like… conductor?”

“That’s for music, ‘taba,” Akira says, leaning against the ladder. “Amateur or not, I am the brains of this operation.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Ann giggles.

Ryuji wipes a hand over his face. “Yusuke,” he says desperately.

“There are no shortcuts in art, Ryuji,” Yusuke explains, and Ryuji groans when he flicks his wrist, and the strip of what he _thought_ was tape lights up in bright pink LEDs. Futaba coos happily, opening her laptop and sitting in the middle of the floor.

 _A nice night_ , he thinks, mockingly. _Just him and Yusuke_.

“Could you give me your Wi-Fi password?” Futaba asks, tapping away at her keyboard.

“Why do you need our _Wi-Fi_ password?” Ryuji sputters, still trying to fight Ann out of him and Yusuke’s food. “And why are _you_ also here?”

Futaba snorts, rocks back onto her hands with a sly grin. “I told Yusuke I could secure the video after you’re done filming! Nobody needs to get a hold of you two getting _nasty_ except the required parties.”

“Required parties,” Ryuji murmurs, putting his face in his hands.

There’s another knock at the door that shakes Ryuji out of his little spiral fest, and Ryuji glances up to see that his friends are happily back to work, Ann suggesting lights around the base of the couch as well as the ceiling, and Ryuji turns to the door with a huff, hoping no one _else_ is planning on making an appearance today.

“Hi, Ryuji!” Haru says brightly, when the door swings open.

“We brought macarons,” Makoto says pleasantly.

“And a revised version of Yusuke’s _abysmal_ script,” Akechi adds, sweeping past Ryuji and into his apartment without even a hello. Haru and Makoto are quick to follow in his example, going to greet Ann as they enter the room.

“No, please, come in,” Ryuji grumbles, shutting the door. “It’s _so_ good to see you all.”

“Ah, Haru, Makoto, Akechi,” Yusuke says brightly. “Have we got a costuming and our final script?”

“ _Costuming_?” Ryuji sputters.

“Right here!” Haru says brightly, pulling out garments outfitted with white and red lace. Ryuji blinks and hopes he can escape the current situation by force of will alone.

“I don’t know why you thought Makoto would be able to handle script writing,” Akechi says, sliding up to Akira’s side to hand over a thick stack of paper. He grins when Akira kisses him on the cheek. “I’m literally an editor.”

“I understand that,” Yusuke says, taking the paper and giving it a cursory glance. “However, I didn’t feel right asking this task of you. It felt too personal for your tastes.”

Ryuji watches Akechi roll his eyes. “Everything with you lot is _always_ personal. This is hardly an extension of the good will I’ve afforded you since we all met.”

“Thank youuuu,” Akira coos, squishing Akechi’s face so he can kiss him on the cheeks again. Ryuji sees his ears turning pink where they peek through his hair.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Akechi sniffs.

Ryuji stalks closer, grabbing the papers out of Yusuke’s hands. “What script could you have possibly—”

_Ryuji: Yusuke, I’ve come to realize that I have loved you for as long as I have been alive. Possibly longer—like lifetimes, centuries, eons. We are like fated lovers, like stars with our destinies intertwined. Won’t you treat my fragile heart with care?_

_Yusuke: I dream of nothing more, my heart. Come into my embrace._

“What the _eff_ ,” Ryuji breathes, flipping the through the pages. He glances up at Yusuke. “You wrote a _script_ for our sex tape? And got it _edited?_ ”

“To be honest, my love,” Yusuke says, leaning onto a hand. “I didn’t think it prudent to leave our dialogue up to improvisation. Feel free to interpret lines as you will though. The true performance is in the actor.”

“Yes, Sakamoto,” Akechi says haughtily. “Your _performance_ is certainly on the line.”

“You shut it,” Ryuji snaps, looking back up at Yusuke. “Babe, this is… too much.”

“The script?” Yusuke says, with widening eyes. “I certainly didn’t get to see all of the edits Goro and Makoto made. I’m sure we can go over it again before—”

“Yusuke,” Ryuji says flatly. Behind him, he can hear the girls cooing over whatever… wardrobe choices Haru has apparently procured, and Morgana yowling something no doubt scathing about Ryuji’s character, and he’s starting to feel like he’s being pulled along on a too tightly head leash. He crosses his arms over his chest, and glances down their hallway with a wince. “Can we talk?”

“We’re talking now?” Yusuke says, with a tip of his head. Akira grabs Goro by the arm and leads him towards the side of the room with a tilt of his head.

“In private,” Ryuji amends, mouth pressing flat. The room goes uncharacteristically silent, speech dropping away as eyes fall on Ryuji and Yusuke. It makes Ryuji feel self-conscious, glancing down at the ground as he scuffs his toe along the carpet.

“Of course,” Yusuke says softly, and Ryuji hears the ladder he’s sitting on creak as he climbs down, fingers reaching out to thread through Ryuji’s own. That helps alleviate some of the pressure in his chest, shoulders relaxing as Yusuke leads them back towards their bedroom and shuts the door.

Ryuji sits on the food of their bed with a sigh, feeling a little grateful that Yusuke has elected to leave the lights off, and that the only light coming in is dim and cool from off the street.

“You seem… displeased,” Yusuke says, coming to sit at Ryuji’s side. “Wasn’t this supposed to be… fun for us?”

“I thought it would be,” Ryuji admits, leaning onto his shoulder. Yusuke’s body is warm, even though his fingers are cold as he wraps his arm around Ryuji’s waist. “This is too much, though, baby. You realize we haven’t even gotten together as the entirety as the thieves in _months_ , and yet somehow you’ve managed to wrangle them all into our house to help with our sex tape?”

“Ah,” Yusuke says, like he’s starting to realize. The hand on Ryuji’s waist squeezes gently and urges him closer. “I… did it again, didn’t I? I’ve created a production out of nothing.”

“No, hey,” Ryuji says, leaning back so he can see Yusuke’s face. “It’s not _bad_ , um, entirely. I just kind of wished we could have… talked about it more beforehand?” He rubs at the back of his neck with a flush. “I might have thought it was a fun idea if I’d been in on it. But coming home to all of this…”

“I’m sorry,” Yusuke says quietly, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it like this. Or at all. I suppose I just got carried away.”

“I’m not upset,” Ryuji says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Yusuke’s lips in return. “I mean it. And… I’m glad all of our friends are here, even if it was under the pretense of helping us make our sex look prettier.”

Yusuke laughs softly, and just that is enough to have the coil that was winding tighter in Ryuji’s chest through the day ease away, affection lacing through him warmly as he smiles. He presses a hand to Yusuke’s jaw and pulls him in for another kiss, smiling when Yusuke keeps things sweet and slow, a hand going to hold the back of Ryuji’s neck as he leans in eagerly. _This_ is what he needed after a hectic, unplanned shift. The soft slide of Yusuke’s mouth and the gentle grip on his body as Yusuke presses him back, back, shoulders hitting the bed as Yusuke lays him out and slides his hand to rest low on Ryuji’s back.

“I love you,” Ryuji says gently, wrapping arms around Yusuke’s neck.

“And I, you,” Yusuke whispers, pressing their noses together, catching Ryuji’s mouth in another kiss. He can feel heat starting to simmer in his gut again pleasantly, arms pulling Yusuke closer—

“Um, guys?” Ann calls, voice distant from the living room. It’s still enough to have them both pausing, breathing quietly into the dark. “We, uh, should probably head out! We don’t want to… impose!”

Ah, shit. Right. Their friends.

“I can go get rid of them,” Yusuke says against his mouth, breath warm and voice low. As much as Ryuji wants to give in, shoo all their friends out and fall into bed with his boyfriend, they really _haven’t_ seen each other in far too long, too caught up with disappointingly separate lives. It’s rare for them all to be in one place when it’s not a birthday or a holiday, and he misses seeing his friends without pretense on random, unplanned nights.

“Or they could… stay?” Ryuji suggests, glancing between Yusuke’s eyes. “I mean, we haven’t gotten together in so long—”

“I’d like that,” Yusuke says, with one last, chaste kiss. “Come on,” he grunts, pushing himself back up, and Ryuji takes the hand extended to him, leading Ryuji back into the living room where the ex-phantom thieves are standing around, looking anxious.

“You guys aren’t… fighting, are you?” Morgana says meekly.

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Of course not.” A collective sigh of relief goes up in the room. “ _But_ , that doesn’t mean you idiots are off the hook.” Ryuji crosses his arms over his chest with a frown. “Who the hell comes to help make a sex tape?”

Akira shrugs, chin propped up on Akechi’s head. “Bros help bros, dude.”

“Bro,” Ryuji says flatly.

“It seemed like a sweet idea!” Haru chimes in, hands clapping together. “Plus, it’s not like we would have stayed for the actual thing, right?” she says, grinning. Akechi clears his throat. Ann starts whistling.

“I hate you guys,” Ryuji says.

“But, hey!” Ann says, sliding off of her chair to push Ryuji past the camera towards the couch. “It’s kind of a shame to waste this cool set up though, right?” He yelps when he gets shoved into a seat, pouting as the thieves all approach gradually, taking up all of the space in frame. Ann slips behind the camera. “Why don’t we take some pictures!”

“We also bought too many macrons for just Haru and I,” Makoto says, glancing at the little bistro bag on the table as Haru slides into her lap on the couch.

“I’ve certainly got nowhere better to be,” Akechi sighs.

Yusuke slides his hand back into Ryuji’s with a grin, smiling when he presses closer with a huff. “Fine,” he grunts, as Ann fiddles with the camera. “Yusuke and I get first dibs, though,” he says.

“Deal,” Ann chirps, setting off the self-timer and rushing to sit at the foot of the couch. “Smile!”

\--

The theives take, all together, too many photos, stacking and arranging on the couch in the most ridiculous poses Ryuji has ever seen. They give Yusuke’s models for his paintings a run for their money.

Thai for two gets split into Thai for nine, and Ryuji ends up facilitating a pizza order on top of it for Haru’s sake. (Really, he just can’t say no to her.) Ryuji finds out Akira can actually bench press him, and Akechi and Ann spend a solid five minutes cackling over the photo evidence just because the wide eyed look of surprise on Ryuji’s face is apparently _oh so_ hilarious. They also find out cats can blush when Ann presses a kiss to Morgana’s fuzzy little cheek for their photo.

“You look like a jackass,” Ryuji laughs, glancing at the photo of him and Akechi choking each other out with too wide manic grins on their faces.

“Must be a familiar expression for someone who has to see it in the mirror every day,” Akechi sniffs, reaching over to steal some of Akira’s food.

Ryuji snorts and leans back against Yusuke’s chest, smiling when he feels a kiss in his hair. He’s a little disappointed they were interrupted, but he’s having too much fun to complain, laughing as Futaba turns beet red when Haru feeds her a slice of pizza by hand.

“It’s getting late,” Yusuke says, wrapping arms around Ryuji’s midsection. “Are you all planning on spending the night? We’ve got extra futons.”

“I don’t have to go into work until late,” Akechi says, and pats Akira’s hand on his thigh. “Sojiro gives Akira weekends off as well.”

“You know my schedule so well,” Akira coos.

“I’m sure my restaurant will be fine without their manager for the day,” Haru giggles.

“Clear schedule for me!” Ann says, leaning back. “I don’t have any shoots lined up, and Shiho is still out of town, so.”

“Makoto?” Ryuji asks, leaning forward with a mischievous smile. “What about you?”

Makoto looks contemplative for a moment, glancing towards the ceiling in thought. “I have to go in early,” she admits.

“Mako-chan,” Haru whines.

“Boo!” Akira jeers.

“Narc,” Akechi says lightly.

“Don’t call me a narc,” Makoto sighs. She glances down at her hands, and Ryuji can see that little spark in her eyes that she likes to get when the thieves are being _bad influences_ on her. He can’t help the way his smile widens. “I suppose… I could call in sick.”

A cheer goes up.

Akira helps Ryuji grab and set out the futons, pushing back the camera and cloth on the floor to make space. They get the TV set back up on the floor, and Ann finds some little children’s movie to fill the space while they chat, people claiming beds and jeering when Morgana tries to claim a whole spot for himself.

“Yusuke and I are gonna take our bed,” Ryuji says, rocking to his feet. “You guys settled in?”

There’re choruses of agreement, and a happy meow from Morgana, now tucked in under Ann’s arm. And squished against Futaba’s side.

“Goodnight,” Yusuke says.

“Goodnight!” everyone shouts back, and Ryuji laughs as he leads Yusuke back towards their room with a smile.

He slides their door shut with a click, leaning back against it as Yusuke shoots him a questioning look over his shoulder. “It’s like a big sleepover,” he says happily.

“It is,” Yusuke says, stepping forward to kiss Ryuji’s cheek, his temple, the tip of his nose.

“Too bad we’re all alone in here, huh?”

“Mhm,” Yusuke says quietly, leaning in to press against to Ryuji’s mouth.

Ryuji puts a finger between their lips, eyes sparkling even as Yusuke pulls away from his denied kiss with a huff. “All alone,” he drawls, lifting his arms up to wind around Yusuke’s neck. “Just you and me…. Bet they can’t even hear us in here with the door closed, huh?”

Yusuke is quiet as the gears in his brain turn, and Ryuji is patient, watching a little spark flare into his eyes. “Probably not,” Yusuke says, nudging Ryuji’s chin up to kiss at his neck. “We never did get to finish what we were doing this morning, did we?”

“Or this evening,” Ryuji purrs, reaching out to pull Yusuke in by the hips.

“An inordinate number of interruptions if I say so myself.”

“It’s a real shame,” Ryuji says, as Yusuke nips at his shoulder. “Do you have your phone?”

“This again?” Yusuke sighs.

“Trust me,” Ryuji drawls, a hand going out to Yusuke’s chest to push him towards the bed. “Gimmie.”

Yusuke hands over his phone and Ryuji slides between his spread legs to open the camera, going to start a video. “If it looks as _aesthetically unpleasing_ as you fear it will, we can just do it again. But I want to _see_ , don’t you, baby?”

“I do,” Yusuke says, reaching out to take one of Ryuji’s wrists, pressing a kiss to his pulse point.

Ryuji slips out of his grasp to set his phone on the dresser, pointed at their bed with a smile. He makes sure he’s using the front camera, just so they can see what’s happening as it’s being recorded. “Come on,” he purrs, moving back to the bed to climb into Yusuke’s lap. “Let’s go.”

Yusuke kisses him with hands on Ryuji’s waist, grinding him forward as Yusuke steals all of his breath away, cock filling out when Yusuke slides hands over his skin, down to grip at his ass.

“Yusuke,” he groans, when the kisses move from his jaw to under his ear, towards his shoulder.

“You’ll have to be quiet, won’t you, angel? You don’t want our friends knowing what we’re doing in here, right?”

“’course not,” Ryuji breathes, even though the idea has heat gathering under his skin, pooling low in his stomach. He shudders when Yusuke slides fingers past his waistband to wrap around his dick. The angle is bad, but Ryuji has been cockblocked enough in one day for it to still feel _amazing_ , and he can’t help the little mewl he lets out, rocking into Yusuke’s grasp.

Yusuke pushes his shirt up with his free hand, palm splaying over his chest, and Ryuji is wholly unprepared for him to lean down and wrap his lips around one of Ryuji’s nipples, teeth grazing his skin as he sucks.

“ _God,_ ” Ryuji breathes, heat pulsing in his body as Yusuke gets his hand messy with the precum gathering at the tip of Ryuji’s cock, spreading it down his shaft with achingly familiar movements. He threads fingers in Yusuke’s hair and pushes him harder against his chest, groaning as he feels Yusuke’s tongue flick over his nipple.

“Turn,” Yusuke says, leaning away from his chest. Ryuji makes a questioning noise, feeling Yusuke’s hand slip off of his cock. “I want to camera to see,” he explains, and Ryuji puffs out a breath, turning in his hold so he can lean back against Yusuke’s chest, flushed and weeping cock bare to the screen in front of him.

The sight of it makes him burn, realizing he can really _see_ himself like this, and that he’ll be able to see it later too, hand coming up to clap over his mouth when Yusuke wraps his hand around his cock again.

“Yusuke,” Ryuji whines, leaning back as Yusuke strokes him slowly, knees sliding between Ryuji’s legs so he can push his thighs wider. He shakes when Yusuke pulls his shirt up to bare his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Yusuke murmurs against his neck, tongue going out to trace the little bead of sweat Ryuji feels slip down his skin. “You’re perfect for me, Ryuji.”

“S-stop it,” Ryuji gasps, feeling Yusuke’s hand go back down to pluck at his nipple. He tries to turn his face to hide, but Yusuke is having none of it, keeping his jaw angled at the camera. “You’re so embarrassing,” he whines.

“You like it, though,” Yusuke mumbles into his skin, and Ryuji moans, too loud, when Yusuke’s hand twists just under the head of his cock. “And you know it’s true. I love your body, angel.”

“ _Yusuke_ ,” Ryuji breathes, back arching. “Can you… lube. Hurry,” he rasps, feeling desperation start to set in. It’s like he can _feel_ the eyes of the camera on him, and it’s making him run hotter, more receptive to ever little touch of Yusuke’s hands on his body. It’s like someone turned the sensitivity on his body up to a thousand, and each gentle graze of Yusuke’s hands _anywhere_ on him make him feel like it’s the first time they’re sleeping together all over again.

Yusuke leans away with a last, lingering kiss to his skin, and Ryuji hears him fumbling for the lube on their nightstand, coming back with hot breath against the back of Ryuji’s ear. “Hips up,” he says, and Ryuji goes, planting his feet flat on the mattress to lift himself embarrassingly to get his hips off of Yusuke’s lap. He turns his face in to kiss Yusuke as he slides his pants all the way off, bearing Ryuji’s warm skin to the soft fabric of Yusuke’s clothes.

When Ryuji opens his eyes and glances back at the camera, he makes a choked off noise, realizing the camera can see _all_ of him, from his slightly flushed chest down to his spread ass, and the visual is too much, now that he knows what it looks like. He moans into Yusuke’s mouth, eyes sliding back shut.

“Keep your feet just like that,” Yusuke says, and Ryuji feels a hand slide between his legs, a lube-soaked finger prodding at his entrance. Yusuke’s not pushing in yet, instead just circling his rim maddeningly, and Ryuji groans, tipping his face to the side as pleasure pulses through him, red hot. “Do you like it like this?” Yusuke says low, into his ear. “Getting filled up with our friends just down the hall?”

“Yes,” Ryuji pants, hands digging into his knees. “I want it, Yusuke, baby, _please_.”

“You’re so good,” Yusuke murmurs, with a kiss to the side of Ryuji’s jaw. He can’t keep in his moan when Yusuke’s finger slips inside of his hole, the feel of his fingers achingly familiar. “You look so beautiful spread out like this. Look,” he says quietly, nudging at Ryuji’s jaw with his nose. “ _Look_ , angel.”

Ryuji pries his eyes open and looks at the small preview in the phone, his body spread out wide and Yusuke finger inside of him, rocking slowly. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groans, foot slipping on the sheets as he tries to keep his knees spread.

“I’m going to put another finger inside of you,” Yusuke explains, nudging a second one just at his rim. “You took the first magnificently.”

“S-stop—talking,” Ryuji pants, when the second finger slips inside of him. He breathes out a broken moan when Yusuke scissors his fingers, opening him up, and Ryuji tips his head back against Yusuke shoulder as he tries to ride out the waves of pleasure. “Harder,” he gasps, “Y-you know… you know what I want, Yu, come _on_.”

“I know, I know,” he coos, and Ryuji feels him curve his fingers perfectly, fingertips brushing against his prostate. It makes Ryuji jolt, biting down on a lip to keep from shouting, even as Yusuke eases away, backing into teasing little touches. “Perfect, my love, there you are—”

“Yusuke,” Ryuji whimpers, hips twitching as he tries to chase that same pleasure from before. “Can I… _fuck_ , can you fuck me? Please? I just—I want—”

“Anything,” Yusuke says, fingers slipping free. “Come here.”

Ryuji shudders as Yusuke gets him to lift himself up again, and then he feels Yusuke’s cock head rubbing at his rim, stretching it slightly without slipping inside. “Tell me how you feel,” he whispers.

“ _Desperate_ ,” Ryuji whines. “I want you, want you so bad, baby, _baby_ , please—”

Yusuke makes a low, growled noise, one hand going to press gently at the bottom of Ryuji’s rolled stomach as he slides him down his cock gently by the hips. Ryuji keens quietly, shifting as he feels himself get fuller and fuller, body adjusting to the easy, _intimate_ feeling of Yusuke inside of him.

He makes a wounded little noise when Yusuke wraps his arms under Ryuji’s knees and nearly pulls them to his ears, fingers lacing behind Ryuji’s head.

“Yusuke?” Ryuji says blearily, feeling exposed in the new position. His feet aren’t even touching the bed, and Yusuke could easily just—

“ _Fuck!_ ” he cries, when Yusuke _lifts_ him, and then slams him back down on his cock. “ _Fuck, goddd, Yusuke!”_

Yusuke shushes him quietly, with another snap of his hips, another easy, manual drag of Ryuji up his cock. “Our friends,” he says evenly, even as he fucks Ryuji onto his cock in short, firm movements. Ryuji feels like his head is spinning, and he’s _never_ felt this exposed before, mouth dropping open so he can pull in shaking, hard breaths. “You feel perfect, perfect, Ryuji, like always.”

“ _Please_ ,” Ryuji begs quietly, voice breaking. His legs are bouncing every time he sinks down on Yusuke’s cock, and he feels so _deep_ Ryuji can barely even breathe, hands going to grab Yusuke’s arms as he drops his head, little punched out moans hiccupping past his lips every time Yusuke fucks him. _Fuck_ , there are _tears_ in his eyes, and one glance up at the camera shows his whole body on display, the shine of the spit tracking out of his mouth just because he can’t control it.

“Are you going to come, angel?” Yusuke asks, dropping Ryuji _right_ onto his prostate. It feels like he’s being speared open, teeth grinding as he tries to keep from _screaming_. “The camera will love it, you’re so good, so perfect, Ryuji, _Ryuji_ —”

“ _Ah, hah, Yu—suke. Yusuke_ , I’m—I c-can’t—”

“So perfect,” Yusuke says, with a kiss to the back of his ear. “So beautiful. Come for me, angel.”

Ryuji snaps his head back with a horse gasp, abs tensing as he comes onto his own stomach, up his chest. _The camera_ , he thinks desperately, whining and choking as Yusuke keeps fucking into him like a fleshlight, his orgasm never quite getting the chance to ebb away as Yusuke keeps going, keeps going.

“Fuck—me,” Ryuji gasps, heart beating so hard he feels like he’s in freefall. “ _Fu—ck_ ,” he whines.

Yusuke usually fucks him so slowly, so consumingly Ryuji can’t think unless it’s about him, like Yusuke has crawled in his head and made his home there. When Yusuke plants his feet on the carpet and _uses_ him like a toy, Ryuji feels like someone has stolen his brain right out from under him, and left nothing but hypersensitivity and the near painful sense that he’s going to come _again_ as Yusuke just keeps going, keeps going—

Yusuke comes with a groan, slamming Ryuji down onto his cock again, and Ryuji _does_ shout this time, spasming in Yusuke’s hold as a second, near painful orgasm shoots through his body intensely enough he barely feels Yusuke burying his face in his shoulder as he rides out his own orgasm, cock twitching as it spills inside of Ryuji.

“Fuck,” Ryuji gasps, when Yusuke finally lets go of his legs. He can barely take in enough air, and his legs are trembling so bad when he sets them down he has absolutely no doubts that the second he tries to stand up he’ll go down on his face. “You’ve, _hah_ , never fucked me like that before… h-holy _shit_.”

“I think—the camera spurred me on—a bit…” Yusuke pants, hands sliding down Ryuji’s thighs comfortingly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ryuji groans, head turning to the side with a grin. “If _that’s_ what sex is going to be like when we’re recording, we might have to just buy a camera for the bedroom.”

“I don’t think I could do that again anytime soon,” Yusuke laughs, leaning forward to capture Ryuji’s lips in a slow kiss. Ryuji turns enough to be able to sit sideways in Yusuke’s lap, nose wrinkling as he feels come and lube dripping onto his thighs.

“Can we go to sleep?” Ryuji asks, pushing at Yusuke’s chest gently. “Please?”

“Don’t you want to shower—”

“Yusuke,” Ryuji says, finally getting his boyfriend to lie back, arms wrapping around Ryuji’s waist as he drags them up the blankets. “I literally can’t move.”

Yusuke kisses the tip of his nose, and Ryuji settles against his chest happily. “In the morning, then.”

“In the morning,” Ryuji purrs, laughing when Yusuke squeezes at his waist.

\--

“Do you think they forgot we’re here?” Akira asks the ceiling, snickering when Goro huffs for probably the hundredth time since Yusuke and Ryuji disappeared. There’s another quiet, but still very audible moan, and the whole of the room is suddenly full of complaining and sighing.

“I wish _I_ could forget I was here,” Ann groans. There’s another whimpering noise, and the clear sound of Yusuke goddamn _growling_.

“At least we could help?” Haru offers in a squeak. He sees Makoto flinch when Ryuji _screams_.

“We are never _helping_ again,” Goro grunts. Akira laughs into his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thaaanks for reading! I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos) if you wanna come say hi and uhhhh don't agree to help with your friends' sextape if you can't handle listening to them have sex. Laterz!


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